Fuse
by NotebookChen
Summary: Kyle's on a short fuse. When he loses his friends, Kyle finds something in Christophe. Still working on plot. Slash- Tophlovski. T for curses. May be angst, may be hurt/comfort- I haven't yet decided.
1. No Way Out

The biggest difference, in my own opinion that is, between humans and objects is our emotions. Though I'm thoroughly grateful I'm not, say, a fishbowl- I wish I had that freedom from emotions sometimes. An object won't feel love, true, but it wouldn't mind or even notice the difference when your best friend fights with you, and you end up never speaking again. And objects have the dignity not to over-analyze their faults and bitch to their second best friend, who- by the way, is still more friends with your new ex-super-best-friend than he is with you.

"Kenny? Am I boring?"

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Here Kyle Broflovski goes again- getting depressed and off in his own little emo-world."

"Thanks..." I muttered and glared at the floor. We were sitting in my kitchen, the rest of my family out running errands or at Ike's friend's house.

Kenny isn't a bad person, don't get him wrong, but he sure as hell isn't good at pick-me-up speeches. He's too truthful. I know this, but it isn't as if I have anyone else to try and talk to. Kenny at least knows when he's done something wrong, but usually only after he sees your reaction to what he's just said. And usually, (unfortunately) when Kenny thinks he's done something wrong, he just up and leaves. Gives up. Walks away silently. From school, relationships- everything. I know this as well, so I'm a bit grateful that he decides I'm worthy enough to try again.

"You're not boring, Kyle. It's just that sometimes it can get a little anoy- umm... repetitive when you force useless facts down our throats or get into one of your 'I hate the world and all who inhabit it' moments. I mean, you can only expect us to listen to you scream your head off at Cartman or snap at random people on the street and then have to apologize for you so many times."

"So you're saying I'm anger-prone and self-centered now?" This was **not** a good idea. I should have went to someone else. But again- who? "And when have I ever snapped at anyone?"

"No no! Just... you're not self-centered, really. But I'm seriously not even going to get on the subject of how you lose your cool and start fighting with anyone who walks by."

"Okay, so I'm a bitchy, loathing narcissist then? Thanks Ken." I knew he wouldn't know what being narcissistic was, but I felt entitled to a few Kyle-moments where I'm not forced to tone down my vocabulary every now and then. But... Kenny's had to deal with _me_ since pre-school, he might have picked up on some words. alright... I'm just lowering my own self-esteem now...

Apparently, I'm not going to find out if he knows the word, because Kenny just sits there silently. Just like he always does when hes deciding to-

"Sorry... See you later Ky."

There. And he's gone.

I fold my arms over my face and let my mind battle between bouts of anger and sadness for a while.

Kenny isn't going to come back.


	2. Mentalities

WEDNESDAY (the day before)

_I hate it._

_I Hate It._

_I HATE IT._

"_**I FUCKING HATE IT."**_

_And then I feel a bit less like I want to kill someone, and a little bit more like I'm on a stage. "...tell me I didn't just... say that out loud?"_

_Stan looks up at me with those indifferent eyes that scream out a story of a teen who hadn't slept so he could bullshit up an essay and then had to spend his lunch period listening to his best friend scream out a story of how much he hates everything this month. You know- the 'please don't start with me, Kyle' look. Cartman isn't much of a help, he folds his legs and turns his head to me quietly, interested in what could make me so miserable and how he could incorporate that into his routine. Kenny at least looks shocked, like he does every time I do this, like 'how could Kyle possibly hate anything? He's Kyle!' _

_Well, I'm fully capable of hating things. I hate everything about them and their reactions. Its all so expected by now, which is sad in more than one way. Stan stopped caring for anyone but himself after he entered the double-digits. Cartman hasn't changed, but that doesn't mean in the least that I know what to expect every day when I open a locker or round a corner. Kenny, oblivious that people don't just shrug everything off and find something else to do, had always been surprised when anyone fought over anything unrelated to material possessions (in which he also grouped his women)._

"_Look, Kyle... You should talk to a counselor dude. I mean seriously, this happens like, every three months. If you're gonna keep me awake when you know I spent all night on that bitch Mrs. Hanson's essay, then you obviously are in need of some sort of help." _

_I glared over at my 'super best friend' Stan. I was prepared to let my slip up (referred to as such because I try hard to contain my emotions) just fade away, but that jibe hurt. Stan probably didn't even realize it was a jibe, which added an edge to the blade. I don't need some prick counselor digging through my life and telling me that all teenagers go through phases and I'm acting out because of some sort of problems from school or home. And that wasn't the only reason I was becoming all the more angry with Stan._

_Everything with Stan is about Stan. He's overly self-centered. He will whine about all his problems and then I'll be counted on to know what to do and say. Before anything else I'm expected to solve his teacher problems or girlfriend issues; saying encouraging things and doing the work of contacting Red to ask Bebe to ask Wendy why she broke up with Stan this time. I'm the one everyone goes to when they bitch about everything, and I'm practically the mother of half the male student body. Maybe I wouldn't mind if I were ever treated the same way, but if anything happens that I feel like complaining about, people- Stan- leave good enough be. _

_If you went through my inbox you'd see a pattern. All the texts between Stan and I are about Stan, homework Stan needed to borrow, people that pissed Stan off, or things I was supposed to make sure to tell Wendy about to excuse Stan's absence, most of the time to hang out with and bitch to me._

_  
I guess I changed too. When I was younger, I snapped all the time. I was sensitive when anyone that insulted me or my religion, and my mother got rid of that particular personality blemish in therapy. I had a common South Park counselor, as to say, I wasn't much cured on the inside, but now knew how to act. Now, I'm not one to ever EVER care about these kind of things when I'm in a normal mood, but I feel entitled to a few "Kyle is human too" moments where I think about myself before trying to fix everyone else's problems._

_Ultimately, I know I'm doing too much and I want to care for myself too, but in my mind- I feel this need to put on a smile and help everyone else first. Others should come before me, right? I don't allow myself to realize that I'm not taking care of myself as good as I am other people or else I become distressed and ...depressed, so I try and continue caring about everyone else. When I care about others for too long and basically get stepped on every day, I get this feeling like "what's the point?" but then afterwards I feel selfish for not truthfully caring about others. Though by now I'm thoroughly depressed, I still act like I'm the same Kyle and continue to get stepped on, thinking everything will blow over. When it doesn't I get into a bad mood which lowers my self-worth and is how the snapping at people thing starts. However- I never usually end up sorry for my actions when I snap even after my anger leaves, because its usually the one time I feel ...human. And **then** I still feel selfish for wanting to act out which is what gets me to realize I'm doing too much for others and should tone it down but I don't because by then, the cycle has continued while I try and convince myself I'm just being stupid and of course everything is fine. I used to be better at genuinely feeling for others but at the moment I'm stuck between anger and "what's the point?", mainly I think because everyone else's problems seem to have doubled all at once._

_I freaked._

_Because I hate _all _of it. _

_I hate the need to make everyone else happy before my own needs._

_  
I hate the way I'm not appreciated._

_  
I hate the way I pretend I am._

_I hate ...predictability._

_I hate... _

_Stan? _

_I do. _

_I hate Stan._

_I hate him._

"_Stan," I say. Before continuing I push my tray away from me and inhale deeply. "I hate you."_

_And that came as a shock to everyone. _

_The super best friends are fighting? Kyle isn't his happy-go-lucky self? Or what Stan thought- 'Kyle usually hates 'it', now he hates a person? Me?'_

_And so we fought. _

_So _**I**_ fought._

_I called him every name in the book and between curses threw in some words of what I was upset about, which is really all I can do when angered. And Stan sat there. He took all of it in, and at the end- said simply, "I think it's time you made some new friends Kyle; You aren't the same person you used to be."_

_So what do you do?_

_I just kind of... _

_Accepted it._

* * *

FRIDAY (the day after Kenny left)

Oh god I'm such an idiot.

I totally screwed everything over.

But yet, I don't care. I took action and I'm proud of myself.

So here I find myself- sitting in honors history, not really listening to Dr. Misha because I'm a bit preoccupied wondering if theres anyone left in school who'd be fine letting me hang out with them.

Craig, Token, Clyde and Tweek are assholes. Well, Craig and Token are. Clyde would go with them and theres no way in hell Tweek would let me in without consent.

I can't hang out with any of the girls, that'd be almost as gay as hanging around Butters, Thomas or Bradley.

No way in hell I'm being a goth.

I have nothing against cripples, but Timmy isn't much company and Jimmy's mom has a real strict after-hours policy, so we wouldn't have much hanging out time...

That leaves the loners.

Pip is the school punching bag. I don't want to slide into that path.

But... who else is there?

Oh, Damien. Damien is just no.

Christophe? Hasn't he like, killed people?

So... I didn't learn much in history today. I guess my plan of action will to just let news spread and wait. Maybe someone will 'adopt' me. I really should start over. I shouldn't be known as the pushover- I should just...

Lets just wait it out.


	3. Winning

_Okay, I'm grounded, have writers block, cant write accents for my life, and possibly have depression, so please just accept the fact that Christophe thinks in an English accent yet speaks in a French one, okay? Makes it easier on all of us._

* * *

Just by looking at me, would you ever be able to guess my favorite hobby? No? Go on. Three guesses.

Murdering? Nope. I've found something more interesting than the stereotypical reaction.

Gardening? Please, I don't have a secret girly side, even if I do carry around a shovel. (Though, not as often. I'm at least more average to see walking down the street.)

Running around at night spying on people? Ehhh.... close.

I love people-watching.

People are ...interesting. How they act differently around certain people or when they're alone. What they do in certain situations. What they lie about to their best friends, to their scholars, to their parents, to their enemy. How their best friends and parents turn into their enemy. People are amusing.

But I can't be everywhere at once. _S__o_, mostly, I people-watch the center of it all. The ones who get the information on everything and pass it on for fun, unknowingly to one more person than they'd think.

"OH Em gee, Wends, You hear 'bout you're ex's BFF, Kyle?" Bebe ran over, sliding into a sitting position, eyes wide.

I watched Wendy sigh as she turned from Red to her best friend. "Bebe, slow down- you get all hyper over stuff sometimes." When Bebe didn't break eye-contact, I knew things were going to get interesting.

You see, I used to keep my people-watching to a minimum. I sat every morning in the corner between the history and world language wings. One day the 'popular girls' dared one another to sit next to me. No one brave enough to go on their own, they sat as a group directly in front of me. After getting nothing but glares out of asking me random questions, they just started talking amongst themselves. For one reason or another, they never left. They came back the next day and so on. Since I, stubbornly, refused to move 'my spot', every morning the most gossipy girls known to man sit a mere ten and a half feet away. They barely notice me anymore, and don't bother to filter anything, so I became somewhat dependent on their secondhand knowledge to aide my people-watching sessions. Eventually, they made this circle of people their official spot, and meet between every period. It's sixth right now.

Wendy was even more a gossip then Bebe, if possible, but she was much better at hiding it. Something I've learned over analyzing her mannerisms. After being handed the nod of approval, Bebe continued. "Sorry." she spat, "You know how he flips out sometimes?"

"Yeah," Wendy voiced her input, "He like, PMSs or something."

"Well, he totally freaked out at lunch last period! First, he screams that he 'fucking hate's it' out loud and then Stan-" Wendy flinched at the name but didn't interrupt. "said he should visit a counselor and Kyle was all 'Stan- I hate you." and BITCHES OUT! He's all screaming every curse word he knows and Stan kicks him out of their group." If possible, Bebe is more wide-eyed than before as she adds hand gestures to her story to stir up the best reaction possible.

Hmmnn... Kyle, huh?

Kyle was always an interesting subject. He did things differently than other people. No one ever really notices him. He's kind of the loner that everyone is mutual acquaintances with, unless they need something from him. Kyle's the kind of guy who'd fit perfectly into that lifestyle, unless you know better than to think that.

Being the self-proclaimed professional people-watcher that I am, I know better than to assume that.

Kyle… fights. Really, he does. I've seen it in him. If he didn't try so hard to be happy all the time he'd be a fucking bastard.

Then it hits me.

I don't know why.

Which bothers the _fuck_ out of me. I _always_ know why. I always seem to have a need to know things, through my skills- taught, learned, and acquired through necessity. It's embedded in my blood. I have _got_ to know why.

Which… bothers the _fuck_ out of me.

Because I wouldn't care so much of anyone else's reactions but in an instance such as this. Because this case is just a little too interesting for my own good.

I wonder…

It's time to up my people-watching to people-interacting. An experiment for the mind, if you will.

I stand up abruptly and walk over to the gossip troupe. I would have towered over them anyways, but the simple fact that they're sitting and I'm standing (and …talking to them) has me more intimidating than I originally planed.

"'Ecsuse moi, Mesdames," I start- partially because I still haven't lost that accent, and partially because I've found that females in general will feel more inclined to help you if you speak the language of romance. "Do eny 'of you know whear to find Kyle now?"

Red, the list keeper forever and always, knows where almost everyone is, all the time. Sure it's a small school, but you must give her credit. "Ummm… I think he's got study hall this period- why?"

In a way, the leader of this pack of vicious, vicious wolves knows how to handle the more delicate sides of these social situations. Sensing that I'm going to leave without rhyme or reason, Wendy plays her part. And very well, might I add. Wendy wants answers, and knows how to lure them out. Knowing this, I keep perfectly impassive as I cringe on the inside at the sound of her too-sweet voice. "Christophe?" She plays herself off innocent. It works on most other males, but It just sickens me to think she knows me well enough to trick me.

Simply for entertainment purposes, I reply. "What iz et cherri?" I pull a famous smirk and glare combination to let her know she's in hostile territory. _She_ understands, as the alpha, but most the other wolves think I've just complemented her beauty, and do that weird blush-and-turn-to-the-girl-next-to-you thing.

"This doesn't have anything to do with Kyle's newly acquired social status, does it?" having learned the sweet voice doesn't work, she opts a more sassy and all-knowing tone.

"I aszure you, cherri, I halve non idea what you could pozibly mean. I simply need to alsk to borrow 'es notes." I throw in my own all-knowing tone, and Wendy has her answer.

She knows she'll get the full story eventually, but she has to wait for the film to develop.

Wendy nods and sits back down, presumably to calm her pack, while I make my way, smirking, up the stairs. I have gym this period, and they never notice if you skip. Feeling slightly… accomplished, if you will, I allow myself an actual smile, unseen to any others, when I hear Wendy's call.

"Christophe?" This tone is more of a 'don't fuck with me' tone, and one of the few I ever bother to answer. I turn halfway, still posed to walk up the stairs but facing the circle of ravenous adolescents.

"Yes, mon ami graves?"

"Don't break him. Stan's gonna need his backup and when he can't find a replacement, he wont be happy to see you've broken his little puppet." She turns her head gracefully back to her group, and somehow the other girls know to be quiet and look away. Wendy hates Kyle, for reasons I can't comprehend, presumably because he takes time away from 'them-time', but knows if Stan doesn't have his best friend, or- just someone to bitch with, there's a chance he'll go Raven again, and that's something Wendy doesn't want to have to deal with. Even if it means protecting Kyle.

"Of course, cherri." But despite the vain attempt, Wendy knows the ball's in my court, and if she wants any information at all, she's going to have to cooperate.

Years of people-watching have perfected my skills. I've won this dominance battle, though no land was lost or claimed. It's just …a hobby of mine. And I'm going to keep winning. Because Kyle's the next obstacle at the top of the stairs.


End file.
